


Bunker Fic

by theformerladyofshalott



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 00:43:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16253132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theformerladyofshalott/pseuds/theformerladyofshalott
Summary: A short nonsensical piece about Dean in the Bunker while he still had the Mark.





	1. The Mark

The bunker was silent, empty. Dean tilted the beer bottle at an angle and studied the drop of condensation working its way downward. Just like him. Going down. He slammed the bottle down onto the wooden table top, shattering it. "Great, that's just great." He thought about cleaning up the mess, but the Mark was throbbing, pushing hate through his system. He felt the same all the time, like he was moments from exploding. Something held him back every time he got too close to the edge, to losing himself to the Mark. He wasn't sure if it was the tattered remains of his soul or the way he felt about his family, but he was tired. Tired of everything. Tired of the Mark. Tired of the burning in his veins. Tired of the way Sam and Cas watched him like he was seconds from losing it. Tired of feeling like he really was on the edge of losing it.

He stood up abruptly, shoving his chair back with a screech. The sound grated on his nerves. Hell, everything was grating on his nerves anymore. He left the bottle where it lay and headed down the halls of the bunker. Even the only place he'd ever felt at home wasn't comfortable for him anymore. He didn't feel right behind the wheel of Baby either. It was like the Mark was scratching his skin off from the inside. Nothing felt right anymore. Food didn't taste as good, liquor didn't numb, women…well, there hadn't been any women in longer than he cared to contemplate.


	2. How It Feels

And that was the way he wanted things. After Lisa and Ben, he knew that he was truly cursed and the Mark had nothing to do with it. Everyone close to him died. Hell, he wasn't immune himself. The corner of his mouth quirked up at the thought of the old days. When he'd first gotten Sam back and they worked cases that were simple. Black and white. Hunters and Monsters. No gray areas. No angels, demons were few and far between. Simple.

But without the new gray areas, they wouldn't have Cas. And damned if the thought of losing the strange angel didn't upset him. The ties that bound them were nearly as strong as his ties to Sam. Though he'd never found anything that held him in a tighter stranglehold than the bonds of blood. He didn't begrudge Sam, or at least he hadn't before the Mark.

Everything was getting twisted again. He punched the wall and put his fist through the drywall. He was going to have to explain that to Sam and Cas later. While they stared at him like he was the frog in a high school science class. He leaned against the wall, the plaster cool against his forehead.

He could leave. He probably should. Sammy would be safer without him. The Mark on his arm was the only reason he could believe that. Even after years of witnessing how lethal Sam could be, he still couldn't bring himself to admit that his baby brother didn't need him around to watch his back.


	3. What It Does

Hell, they were both probably better off without him. Cain had the right idea. Getting out of the way. Getting away. Then again, if he left, he'd be alone with his thoughts. Not a situation Dean Winchester often allowed himself to experience. He was constantly moving, anytime he was alone for too long, he found his way to a bar and let the alcohol drown out his thoughts. But his old friend was letting him down. He wasn't sleeping either. There was no relief from the Mark.

There was no way out. That was what he was really running from. What he had been running from for years. There was no happy ending in his future. Sam still had rosy dreams for "After". Dean snorted. He knew the truth, there was no "After". Not for anyone who chose to Hunt. There was only one way out.


End file.
